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secret-smut-sideblog · 2 months

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Cold Comfort

Astarion x F! Dark Urge

18+ animal death, self harm, death, fear, hurt/comfort, roughness, oral (f!), fingering (f!), masturbation (m!), implied trauma, tenderness, aftercare, touch sensitivity/aversion, durge going through it, karlach being the best

Finally reaching Moonrise Towers, she finds her urge overtaking her, taking an innocent life. Astarion seeks to keep her company through the long night...

All three of them staring in cold shock, her back bristling in pleasure in front of them. Her foot retreating from the little thing. The crunch of her heel still loud in their ears.

Her control of her bloodlust had been tenuous at best. Able to control herself enough to not kill Isobel, but beyond that struggling. A dark slackening smile coming over her face, her posture pulling higher.

Only hours earlier commanding the goblins to take their own lives. Z'rell's impressed smile as one plunged a knife into his chest.

He only hoped she could continue to aim it away from them.

Shadowheart gripped her own sleeve in an effort to steady herself, eyes brimming in tears staring at the crumpled cat. His eyes darting to Karlach's. Her's equally alarmed but shaking her head quickly. "Wait." She mouthed.

And she was right, the wicked body in front of them softening back into her again. A gasp from her, a low mournful wail as she looked down at the still animal.

"I-" She wavered, hand poised to reach out for the little corpse. "I was just trying to remember..."

"What is wrong with me?!" She wailed, closing her eyes tight. "Gods help me." A whisper, a calling prayer.

Astarion was glad Karlach was there, stepping forward. Putting a strong hand on her shoulder, leading her gently away. "Come on soldier," She urged kindly as they stepped quietly back into the towers. Shadowheart taking up at her side, hushing reassurances into her.

It had been a quiet camp that night. Those not at the tower picking up on the sharp mournful energy coming off of them. At least Shadowheart had the tact to wait until she was out of earshot to catch them up. Only Gale shooting her obvious scared flitting glances.

Sitting silent, her legs pulled up to her chest at the edge of the fire. Arms rested on her knees, staring into the flames. Eyes exhausted and dark.

He wanted to say something, turning conversations over and over in his head. Gods he was her lover, shouldn't he be consoling her? Coming up dreadfully blank, he compromised to sit near her. Within reach if she wanted to seek him.

Finally, they all shuffled off to bed. Some shooting consoling words towards her as they retreated. The fear pulsing in the air.

Only Karlach coming over and kneeling down next to her, planting a warm kiss on her forehead. "Get some rest if you can, love. I'm right here if you need me."

Her mouth pursed into a strained smile, nodding. Patting Karlach's arm in thanks.

Karlach's eyes caught his again as she rose. Shooting a look down at her then back to him, urging. Come on man.

He nodded, kicking himself. She needs him, or at least it seems like she does. If only he could figure out how to do this.

Gods maybe Karlach should be her lover.

The sound of the crackling fire and soft snoring surrounded them. Her eyes still staring into the flames, reflected back in her green eyes.

"You should get some rest, Star." She whispered, so quiet he could barely hear. "I'll take first watch."

His eyebrows knitted together, was she sending him away?

"Darling, I'm fine." He assured. "I can stay out here all night. In silence, if that's what you need."

She didnt respond, eyes still dancing in flames. I guess that's not a no? He thought.

"I'll be back, I'll fetch a book to occupy us." He rose to feet, heading quietly towards his tent. Gods why was he so bad at this? Charming, seducing, misleading. That was his bread and butter. Shouldn't consoling fit in there somewhere?

He paged through a few different options, kneeling in his tent. Relented to take two or three thin tomes. Stop being so precious.

Pushing open the flap of his tent his eyes were drawn to her silhouette.

Standing now, arms limp at her side. Head looking down at something, silent. A coiled energy on the air.

He drew forward, silent steps. Instinct. Eyes picking out what she was looking at.

A log had fallen out, bright with embers. Still red hot and smoldering. Sitting at her feet.

Before he could comprehend what was happening she dropped. Falling down kneeling into the log. Nothing but a low restrained groan leaving her as the flesh of her knees burned.

He dropped the books, rushing forward. "Gods, dont!" He exclaimed, pulling on her shoulders. Calling out her name in a frantic gasp. Pulling her off of her punishment.

She fell back with him, her back meeting his chest. His eyes automatically drawn to her knees, red and angry. Burning and bleeding.

"Why did you do that?!" He asked, despite himself. Looking wild into her eyes.

Hers finally breaking their dead cold reverie. Filled with grief.

"Because I deserved it. I deserve more." She choked. Eyes tear brimmed, desperately searching his.

"No, no." He whispered, cupping her face. "You weren't in control. That wasn't you."

"How do you know that?" She shook her head. "What if that is me? What if it's always been me? It never leaves."

Hiccuping, her eyes left his. "What if I've been pretending this whole time? Living a fantasy. All of this a beautiful dream." Shivering, eyes closing. "Gods, I feel it everywhere. Something is coming, it's not here yet but it's on it's way."

He was at a loss for words, a raw piece of her laid bare that he had no inkling of. Was this what she felt all the time? How could she be such a leader with all of this in her head?

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. For everyone." She whispered.

"Maybe I should get Karlach," He murmured, turning his head to call out for her.

"No!" Her arm gripping his sleeve. "Please. I cant... I dont want her to know how bad it is."

He felt a pull in his chest. Hearing the words she wasn't saying. That she wasn't scared to tell him.

"You know," He started softly, pushing a lock of her hair behind her ear. "I understand more than you know. I know what it's like to not be in control of your own body. I've done things under Cazador's control that I can never take back."

She looked up at him, tears streaming silently down her cheeks. "I'm so afraid. All the time." She whispered.

"I know, my sweet." He sighed, pressing his forehead to hers. "As am I."

"Thank you." She breathed, hand coming up to cup the back of his neck. Relaxing into him. "For understanding. It gets so lonely."

He suddenly wanted to kiss her. Knuckles caressing her cheek. His eyes closing as he remedied the distance between them.

She whimpered quietly, her mouth so soft and warm against his. A gentle tremor in her body.

He wrapped his arm around her back, his hand pulling the nape of her neck, pulling her deeper into him. Needing her as close as he could get.

She leaned into him with the same need, moaning softly. Her hand gripping the front of his shirt. Opening her mouth to his tongues request against her lips.

He groaned softly, she was a really good kisser. He knew she had no memory before the nautiloid but something's you cant forget, he supposed.

He needed her in his tent. Now.

Scooping under her knees and her back he lifted her. Carrying her to the far entrance of his tent. Tried not to preen at her little gasp.

The flap falling shut behind them, red tinted darkness enveloped them. Her eyes on his as he laid her down quickly on his bedroll. Her hands already pulling her camp shirt over her head.

He would usually tease about how eager she was being, but he felt it too. An urging, a desperation. Feeling as if they didn't get it out now they never could again.

He unlaced her trousers with shaking fingers, her hands pulling his shirt from his leathers. Pausing his work only briefly to raise his arms as she pulled it over his head. The sound of heavy breathing and pulling fabric.

She leaned up, his flesh free for her. Her lips meeting his throat. Kissing slow hungry pulses into the sensitive skin.

He moaned quietly, eyes pulling shut. Finally getting her damned trousers off, pulling them and her underclothes in one motion down to her shins.

She hissed in pain, pulling away from his neck. Shit, he forgot.

"I'm sorry, darling." He whispered, leaning down to kiss softly around the angry skin of her knees. Running a hand up her plush thigh. So soft. Lamb's ear.

"You're okay." She hushed, smiling gently down at him. Taking his chin in her hand. "Come here to me."

He returned to her mouth with reignited fervor. He was always the one talking between them but her voice. Her voice did something to him. Low, smooth, smoky. He wanted to hear it all the time.

"Tell me what you want." He urged against her mouth. Their limbs tangling desperately. Her body a furnace against his. Gods he could just lay like this, melting into her endless heat.

"I dont want to think. I dont want to have any room for thoughts in my head." She hushed against his mouth. "I want you to be the only thing inside me."

A thrill ran down his spine, his length throbbing. Nearly mad trying to get his leathers off. His breath a hot pant against her neck.

His fingers trailed down, pinching one of her nipples softly. She mewled against the curl of his hair. Legs opening wider.

He slotted between them, needing no further invitation. His mouth nipping and kissing at her soft skin as he moved downwards. Catching one of her peaks in his mouth.

She bucked, a low whine leaving her. "There, please there."

He smiled into her. Lapping and twisting his tongue against the hard mound. Humming approval.

She squirmed under him, hand carding into his hair. Her eyes finding his, face flushed.

He looked at her through his lashes, nibbling and rolling his tongue. Delighted by her head falling back, her hand gripping his bedroll under them.

His hand trailed down, feather light. Slipping over the curls of her center. Pushing gently between her folds.

"Gentle or hard?" He urged, voice low. Switching to her other breast. Licking long strokes.

"Hard." She moaned, bucking her hips trying to get him to push in.

He plunged into her, already soaking and gripping his fingers. "Hells," He cursed quietly. Feeling precum already leaving his tip.

He pumped inside her roughly, hypnotized by the sight. His pale hand pulsing back and forth, glistening wet to the base of his fingers. Her cunt opening to him, the slight tremor in her pelvis. Plush thighs wrapped around his thin waist.

He leaned his head down, catching her engorged clit in his mouth with a groan. His hips rutting into the blankets under them.

She moaned into her hand, trying to muffle her sweet calls for him. He knew it was unwise, that they still had a whole camp around them, but he wanted to make her scream.

He suckled down hard, hand slamming inside her. Adding a third finger.

She arched and gripped his hair. Little choppy moans choked out of her.

He experimented with his mouth, watching her. Finding the paces, the techniques that made her twist under him.

He did one long pulling suck with his tongue flat on the underside of her clit and saw her eyes flash to his. Hands coming to brace herself at her side.

There. He thought, smiling against her. Doing it again, slowly. Watching the tremor rise from her pelvis like rippling water.

She was close he could tell, her breath a strained gasping. Head lolling, all hips and clenching pulls on his fingers.

He did that same pull with his tongue, fast and mean. Fingers a blur inside her. Other hand coming to snap down on the soft flesh of her ass. The sound making his cock throb, hips grinding.

She pushed his shirt into her mouth in one final desperate moment. Her orgasm ripping through her, a muffled shrieking mess. Hips rising high, fucking herself against his mouth. Only the whites of her eyes visible.

He supported her hips in both hands, only his mouth now. Suckling down hard on her, fucking her through her orgasm. His chin, his jaw coated in her sweet cum. Gods he felt feral. So so hungry.

Tongue pulsing merciless he watched as she climbed again. Gripping her ass as she tried to get away. Moaning hot into her cunt. No he wasnt done yet.

She whined a handful of cries into his shirt, hips bucking. The fabric falling from her mouth. Eyes meeting his, wide and blown out. "Astarion, I-"

He groaned, eyes pulling shut. His name, so often said with disdain or disapproval, sounded so sweet from her. He wanted to hear it again.

He buried his face in her, nose pressed against her clit, tongue fucking into her.

"Astarion, oh Gods!" She whined, trying to twist away as her whole body shook. Her second end hitting her, far harder than the first by the looks of it. Clenching in fast pulses around his tongue. Great tremoring jolts across her body. Strained pleading mewls that directly stroked down his length.

Far too near his own end to even entertain the idea of entering her, he fucked roughly into his fist. One, two, three strokes and he was gone, his hand still soaked in her cum too much. Hitting him like a hammer against the base of his spine. Her cunt muffling his loud whimpering, his hand still holding her up to him shaking. Fingernails digging hard into the flesh of her ass. His spend dripping down his fist.

A great spreading warmth from his pelvis, a delicious exhaustion moving into his limbs. He let her down gently, cleaning his hand, wiping his face and flopping face down next to her. His breath a heavy gasp.

She giggled as she looked over at him. "You alright?" She asked, smiling at his dramatic display.

"I'm going to need a while to recover, sweet thing." He murmured into the blankets.

"No rush," She called, fingernails scratching lightly across his scalp. Oh. That felt really good. His eyes closed, nearly purring.

Seeing his reaction she brought her other hand to him. Straddling his back and scratching along both sides of his scalp.

He moaned, her fingernails lighting up pleasure trails along his head. Oh Gods, he's never felt something like this. It was almost better than the orgasm.

She sat on the base of his spine. Scratching little perfect circles. Stopping to rub his ears softly. He moaned low into his arm, the sensation close to arousal.

Moving her hands into a massage she kneaded his scalp. Moving down to his neck, his shoulders.

Her strong hands finding that knot that he always kept in his left shoulder, he melted into the bedroll. His hand, flat at his side, grabbing onto her ankle for support.

No one had ever done this for him before and he didn't know what to do with himself.

He felt like he was being unwound, his body a tapestry that she had found the end to. Pulling in long sure strokes.

Aware suddenly that he was quietly crying, her face coming down to kiss behind his ear. "Do you want me to stop?"

He nodded silently, face scrunching up. Trying to swallow the lump in his throat.

"Okay," She whispered kindly. Dismounting off of him, pushing a curl of his hair behind his ear tenderly. Turning to redress herself.

He desperately wanted to ask her to stay but he felt so vulnerable, afraid to ask. Afraid of what that would mean.

She pulled his blanket over him, her eyes all tenderness. Her trousers back on, searching for her shirt.

"Mine. Take mine." He urged, already falling. His eyes so heavy.

She smiled, pulling his camp shirt over her head. It fit her perfectly, the ruffle plunging into her cleavage.

"Heavenly," He sighed before falling into a deep trance.

She pulled the hem of the collar into her nose as she left his tent. His scent hitting the back of her throat. Bergamot, citrus, lavender. Intoxicating.

Arranging his fallen books into a neat pile next to the entrance.

She returned to the low burning fire, pulling her knees up to her chest again. Sighing. Gods she would've stayed if he had asked. Stayed for days.

Picking at the burned edges of her ruined pants. The hot angry skin on her knees a welcome reminder. He did not need someone like her staying in his tent.

A strong hand clapped down on her shoulder, fiercely warm. Already leaning into her as Karlach sat down next to her.

"Couldn't sleep either, soldier?"

"No," She sighed, head resting on her hot shoulder. "Sleep is overrated." Decidedly didn't mention her pacing around camp the last few nights. Always the first to offer to be watch. After Alfira sleep was her enemy.

"How's Fangs?" She asked quietly, appraising his shirt on her.

"Okay, I think. He's asleep at least."

"You know, you two are good for eachother. I think he likes you." She teased. Knocking her knee against hers.

"I kind of wish he didn't." She hushed, fingers picking at the frays on her pants. "I dont even know what I am. How could he like something that doesnt have a name."

Karlach said her name plainly. Repeated again when she looked at her. "You have a name. And we love you."

Finally breaking she sobbed, burying her face into Karlach's shoulder. Her warm body enveloping her. Holding her shaking form anchor until morning.

#that scene in moonrise made me so sad. my poor girl going through it #astarion smut #astarion x dark urge #astarion x tav #lyrics from: control - halsey

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the-art-block · 4 months

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Seeing your latest art of the nossies in the group new years picture reminded me of Wolf Mother (and her childe) as characters and now I'm DEEPLY interested in them as people and characters! I love their designs, just how much the curse affected them and am interested in how they fit into the Moonrise Nation story. (not that you have to reveal anything, of course!) Just admiring.

You're too sweet! YOU'RE TOO SWEET 🥺

These two have a lot of lore behind them (which I'm sure folks don't mind) so for the sake of brevity I'll try to keep it simple!

The Kindred population in the pre-colonial states was never that big, and it was kept in check by Kindred themselves - because the more of them that existed, the less food there'd be for the whole. These old laws regarding Kindred creation and conduct state that a Sire is responsible for their Childe for their whole unlife, and forbade any Kindred from having more than one living Childe at a time. Wolf Mother, original name lost to time, is a seven century old Nosferatu that was Embraced in the St. Lawrence River Valley for the crime of sabotaging the hunting grounds of another tribe in the locality.

Wolf Son, going by the name Jack Skinner modern-day, was Embraced 600 years ago by Wolf Mother for the crime of banditry. Probably like most Embraces, the relationship between them started out strained and unfriendly. Getting Embraced in the old tribe days was definitely a form of capital punishment and not something anyone really wanted. This of course is doubly true for an Embrace via Nosferatu, and the man that became Wolf Son took a long time to settle into his fate as a hideous living omen. When he did manage to overcome his grief and horror, he became a proper student to Wolf Mother and served alongside her in the assigned role of the Promiskeepers (The colloquial name for the Nos at the time) - which was to safeguard and dispense knowledge from both Kindred and Kine of generations gone. Things like: what to do when the seasons are uncharacteristically unfavorable, how to respond when a certain disease starts spreading, what to do with land that refuses to yield resources, etc. (Nos like Grandma Oginn also used to provide matchmaking services to her local tribes ;D) Additionally, in the old Kindred society, the Promisekeepers were tasked with keeping track of debts and contracts made between Kindred. The Nos of pre-colonial North America (at least on the East Coast) were basically your archivists and judges.

As the modern Moonrise Nation is attempting to reclaim some of the old traditions, both for Kindred and their human relations, Nosferatu who come into the faction are expected to take up this mantle of advisors and story keepers, to learn and preserve history, and be there to aid humans and other vamps alike when they're not sure what to do about a problem. Wolf Mother herself was a bit of an isolated Kindred back in her day, she roamed a huge tract of land and only encountered other undead and humans rarely. Still, she was widely known to be a neutral or friendly presence, and her child inherited the same nomadic lifestyle.

The pair would be separated when the first waves of Sabbat Kindred arrived on the continent on the crossings from Europe. They thought each other dead until very recently.

Wolf Son met with immigrant Camarilla Kindred in the 1700s and would later travel to Europe, where he would be installed as Sheriff over a Midlands Domain for several decades. Modern-day, he has come home to America, and is now serving as an Archon.

Wolf Mother spent most of the last few centuries in torpor near Lake Erie, and in the few years she's been awake again she's been singing into the night in hopes her long-lost Childe might still be around... Poor thing...

You can imagine the eventual reunion between them is gonna be super emotional. Not least of all because the Moonrise Nation is explicitly not joining the Camarilla, and seek to make themselves an independent faction.

I'm sure it's fine 🙃

#vtm #vampire: the masquerade #nosferatu #moonrise nation #I'll cry dont look at me #getting emotional about stuff that only happened because I made it

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